


One Shots

by BlaiseKillmonger



Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angry Sex, Angst, Arguing, Awesome T'Challa (Marvel), Awkward Kissing, Birthday, Black Panther AU, Blow Jobs, Character Death, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Coming Out, Cosplay, Deaf!Erik, Delivery Person!Erik, Drunken Flirting, Dyslexic!Erik, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Erik Killmonger Feels, Erik gets naked to make T'Challa feel better about being naked, Erik is a Sweetheart, Erik is deaf, Erik won't let him, Erik's adorably clueless, Erik's glasses, F/M, Feelings Realization, First Kiss, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Makeup Sex, Married Couple, Misunderstandings, No Incest, Non-Canon Relationship, One Shot, One Shot Collection, Oral Sex, Panic Attacks, Play Fighting, Praise Kink, Protective T'Challa (Marvel), Rich!T'Challa, Romance, Sacrifice, Sexual Confusion, Starbucks, Student!Erik, Student!T'Challa, Survival, Sweet Erik, Sweet T'Challa (Marvel), T'Challa (Marvel) Feels, T'Challa gets sick, T'Challa trying to focus, Thick T'Challa, Undercover T'Challa, Yoga pants, criminal!erik, one shots, survival AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-03-25 09:13:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 18,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13831071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlaiseKillmonger/pseuds/BlaiseKillmonger
Summary: A series of one-shots that will be updated whenever, dedicated to a ship with many names and my OTP. Non-Canon T'Challa/Erik Killmonger. Open for requests!





	1. Cold Pizza

**Author's Note:**

> I will try to complete this as soon as possible and of course, it's Non-Canon T'Challa/Erik Killmonger so they are not cousins in any of these one-shots.

T'Challa was waiting for his pizza. He couldn't help but find annoyance at the time on his clock. His order was over forty minutes late and there was no sign of any updates. He was waiting for  _'Erik_ _'_ to arrive. His pacing back and forth motion became repetitive but it induced less stress than simply sitting around, so he continued to do so. The African checked his phone multiple times but nothing succeeded. With a frown, he wondered if he would be better off ordering from another pizza delivery business. He wasn't on a schedule, in fact, tonight was one of the rare nights he had to himself, but for him, it was the principle. The box-set of movies on the table could wait, but his stomach couldn't. It growled in agony and felt like a xylophone having the stick dragged down its body. He was waiting for the opportunity to unwind and wore his royal pajamas – a pair of checkered blue bottoms and a long but tight black raglan shirt. One last tap of the phone was enough for him and he looked online for another website to order from. After setting up the account and sighing, he phoned them for verification and completed the order but heard something he had to listen out for again. It was his doorbell.  

"You must be joking," he pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head with frustration. The doorbell rang again and this time the door thumped as if it was being punched. T'Challa strolled to the door and opened it, surprised to see a man barely taller than him holding a pizza in a wide box.  

"I'm guessing you're Challa?"  

The man was barely in uniform, instead he was wearing a blue long-sleeved t-shirt was seemed too big for him and sand-colored pants that looked like they belonged in paintballing. His helmet was the only thing that resembled someone who worked for a pizza organization business.  

"T'Challa," he chuckled smoothly. "Do you realize you are nearly an hour late?" 

Erik handed him the box and removed his helmet.  

"I came here to deliver a pizza. It didn't state whether or not it had to be hot. Just sign for it and I'll get out of your hair." 

T'Challa heavily disapproved of his tone, he almost seemed like he didn't care. But then T'Challa looked at his face and the man seemed like he just wanted to get out of there.  

"You are aware of that fact I had to order another pizza, right?" 

Erik sucked his teeth and tried to take the box back. 

"Fine, take it off me. You've got my delivery details, take it off my pay. Not like I make much but you should get it back soon." 

His words struck T'Challa and he quickly didn't care about his food anymore. He couldn't take anything from this guy, not after hearing that. He clearly didn't enjoy his job and felt like his pay practically robbed him. T'Challa didn't let go of the box and claimed it back, much to Erik's confusion. 

"Bruh, I said just take it off-" 

"Forget about it. I do not mind. If you do not mind, I would like to give you some money. When I was younger, I had a job I did not enjoy and it paid peanuts in comparison to what I should have been making." 

Erik found himself erecting one eyebrow, almost delivering a mean face to T'Challa but he laughed, which made T'Challa stare at him with interest.  

"You think I need pity? Or money?" 

He tried to turn away but T'Challa planted a hand on his shoulder and stopped him. 

"I think you need proper recognition. Come inside, please." 

Erik was hesitant but couldn't care less after ten seconds and removed his keys from the motorcycle. He followed behind T'Challa until he was inside, letting T'Challa close the door behind him. The first impressions were  _rich_ and  _woah_ once he looked around. T'Challa's house had its own pool, visible from the living room, and the furniture was supreme.  

"You live here? How much do you make, it looks comfortable here!" 

T'Challa laughed and waved his hand to the couch.  

"Please, take a seat." 

Erik nodded and sat on a cream couch, which felt like he sitting on a cloud. 

"I can tip you on this app, right?" 

"Yeah man. But why? I was late..." 

"Some good deeds need no explanation, they just need to be done. I have never tried cold pizza before, is it good?" 

Erik took a slice and nodded with much excitement as T'Challa put the first disc of his box-set into the television. 

"It's dope! Honestly, how do you not know about this?" 

T'Challa felt happy to see Erik was enjoying himself. He wasn't the moody delivery man outside his house, but company who could laugh with T'Challa and watched him try something new. Erik's face was lit up with laughter and glee at T'Challa's reaction to cold pizza. It sent shivers down his spine and he almost spluttered it out.  

"What on earth was that?" He smiled and Erik giggled at his disgust. T'Challa stood up and grabbed two slices with one hand. "I think the microwave is a good choice for these. I will be right back." 

"Alright bro." 

The start of the film interested Erik and he gasped at the starting fight, but his phone chimed and his concentration was broken. It was an alert about his tip and he was left speechless and with no breath when he read it. 

**_You have been tipped $1500! Keep it up, Mr. Stevens!_ **  

His eyes began to water and he smiled at T'Challa, who returned with his freshly heated slices. 

"Why?" 

"Because you deserve it. And because-" 

His sentence was cut off by Erik tightly hugging him with both arms wrapped firmly around him. He returned the motion and Erik had his face buried in T'Challa's shirt. Only minimal tears left his eyes but he wasn't embarrassed. 

"Thank you so much." 

T'Challa rubbed his back and after thirty seconds the hug slowly dissolved. They sat next to each other on the couch and Erik gave T'Challa a smile. 

"What's this movie about?" 

T'Challa returned the smile and stared into Erik's dark nut brown eyes. 

"The best is yet to come." 


	2. Bored

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik's bored, T'Challa's tired and a phone call might be the solution to it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes, the second day's one shot was deleted so this was literally a blend of something I had planned for another work and quick thinking. Another one will be out later on today as the third day's one shot.
> 
> Update: I've decided to update this once every three days, instead of every day :( but it means I can focus on making everything I write the best it can be!

"Thank you for your time, have a nice day." 

T'Challa may have been one of the only people that genuinely meant that on the phone, and he never had a problem saying it. It was the last phone call he had to take and even though his calling time had expired by thirty minutes, he didn't mind helping out one more person. He walked into his bedroom to find Erik laying upside down on the bed with his head dangling off the edge and his feet digging into the pillows. 

"Are you really that bored? You could have read a book or done something productive," T'Challa smiled. It never bothered Erik when he asked that question because there wasn't one time he felt T'Challa was berating him for doing nothing. He just felt bad that his boyfriend was bored. 

"I did, I read a digital copy of  _The Hunger Games,_ narrated by  _Television_." 

T'Challa laughed at his joke and moved onto the bed next to him. They had different sleeping attire; Erik wore nothing but a pair of black basketball shorts whereas T'Challa usually had a white vest and grey shorts on, but sometimes he borrowed Erik's shorts. He grimaced at Erik's foot and Erik noticed after reaching forward to look at his partner. 

"What's wrong?" 

T'Challa held his foot by the ankle and examined the lighter side of his foot. There was nothing apparent on his sole but T'Challa still held it. Erik moved back down and his hair fell victim to gravity, hanging over and swishing with the brief movement. 

"There is something on your foot. It looks like dirt." 

Erik was still upside down and remained watching the movie with barely any care, but a lot of doubt. 

"Are you sure? I had a shower like two hours ago and I've been on the bed since. Maybe it's the light." 

"I guess so. It will not hurt to dust it off though." 

Erik squeaked at the quick sensation of T'Challa's fingers across his sole and kicked T'Challa's hand away, much to T'Challa's confusion. 

"I landed wrong playing basketball yesterday," he lied. "Just, don't." 

T'Challa shrugged his shoulders and went to the bathroom. The carpet felt smooth as he walked and he found himself in front of the mirror. His reflection showed him a man who he was proud of for succeeding so much in life. He had the best job, a house to be envied and the prize he earned for building the confidence to ask someone a question – his dream boyfriend in the other room. T'Challa picked his toothbrush up and stroked his teeth with toothpaste, creating a turquoise mess in both his mouth and in the sink. After two minutes of brushing and scratching his tongue with the brush, he spat the processed gel out of his mouth and rinsed which left a quick and cold sensation. Returning to the bedroom, he discovered Erik doing pushups on the floor and he decided not to interrupt, but to join. The two always aimed to do as much as they could together because of how much they appreciated and loved the other man's company. Even if Erik was cooking, T'Challa would be arranging the ingredients next to him.

"Why are you doing exercise at this time?" 

His head became in sync with Erik's and the two pushed up and down simultaneously. With each word came a push and Erik's sentence became broken. 

"Don’t...know...just...bored." 

"I guess...that makes...sense."  

T'Challa grew tired after twenty push-ups and sat back on the bed. His phone rang and he furrowed a brow because of the number. Erik noticed his expression change and stood up with one push into a jump. 

"Come on man, it's almost midnight. Just leave the phone in the drawer." 

"I cannot leave somebody waiting. But why now?" 

He answered the call but instead of his usual introduction, the person on the other end was listening to Erik's voice after he took the phone off T'Challa.  

"Unfortunately, you have called one of our representatives beyond the working hours, please try again in the morning. We apologize for this inconvenience." 

Erik shook his head and silently mouthed  _'no we're not'_ with a roll of the eyes and T'Challa looked away, finding it slightly amusing. Erik hung up and saw how T'Challa was hiding his amusement. 

"I'm good right?" 

"You should not have done that. It was impressive but give me the phone. I need to phone them back." 

"Oh, this phone?" 

Erik moved his hand out and looked at T'Challa as if he had no idea what he was talking about. T'challa approached him and Erik ran to the end of the room. 

"I do not have time for this Erik," T'Challa snickered. "Do I have to get it myself?" 

Erik pushed a kiss from his lips and grinned at his boyfriend. "I'd like to see you try." 

T'Challa immediately began to chase Erik around the room and Erik was quick on his feet. He jumped over the bed and tried to open the door but T'Challa wrapped his arms around Erik's waist and threw him onto the bed while still clinging to his human teddy bear. Erik squealed with laughter and T'Challa became less serious and started enjoying his wrestling match on the bed. They rolled around for twenty seconds and as the sweat built up the two were getting more competitive. Erik found the closest pillow and clashed it against T'Challa's head.  

"Is this all you've got?" 

T'Challa moved him onto his back and pinned his arms down, wide apart from each other. His phone was still in Erik's sweaty hand. Both men were panting, catching their breath and their eyes plugged into each other. 

"I have one more trick up my sleeve." 

T'Challa moved his face down to Erik's and kissed him on the lips multiple times, closing his eyes and forcing Erik to close his with the power of seduction. The pecks on his lips turned into something Erik couldn't even try to counter and Erik's hand grew weaker, slowly opening up like a flower. 

"You know...this isn't...fair right?" 

T'Challa bit Erik's lip softly and moved away, giving Erik a mischievous smile. 

"Oh please. I did not even want the phone. Just a bit of fun." 

"You want a bit of fun? Round two out of three?" 

"Make it five." 

The two Spartans continued their battle for the rest of the night, making an entire mess of the room but having the most fun they'd ever had. T'Challa kept burying Erik with kisses on the face, but Erik never wanted to submit.  

And he never did. 


	3. Study Buddies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik's uncomfortable opening up about his struggle to read and T'Challa makes it his mission to make him feel better about himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to make this a four-part work, and might in the future, but right now I'm trying to wrap up any works that may distract me from larger projects. This is a more serious work, and in some parts, you can tell it's the opening chapter to a series but hopefully, it's good!
> 
> Update: This has now been turned into a full work in progress, called 'Study Partners'.

Erik wanted to crawl up and die. His stomach started aching with nerves; the knots were twisting violently. He had entered his first year as a transfer student after getting kicked out of his last college, the reason being defending his late father's honor as a result of another student mocking him. A chair to the back may have seemed extreme but to Erik, it was merely a lick to the face. This time he couldn't mess up, it was only a recommendation from his uncle that kept him in education. It was frustrating to have to say 'yes' to everything he was asked for but he couldn't risk disapproval. All the years of running over teachers and professors with his attitude were over.   

"Erik, could you read this out?"  

His heart spiked and suddenly there was no comprehension on what to do next. When he was young, his father was murdered and he couldn't learn from anybody. Until last year, the stains were still there. The Oakland resident struggled with learning basic things, and some were prioritized over others. By the time he was ten he learned how to ride a bike and where all the major grocery stores were, but at the age of eighteen, he didn't understand some aspects of knowledge. Sitting in the middle meant he'd always be least likely to be picked for anything, but not this time.  

"I...I forgot my book, my bad."  

He was obviously lying; the book was poorly hidden on his lap and laughter from the other students prompted Mr. Stark to look at Erik with disbelief. He crossed his arms and Erik was forced to pull out his book. The book slammed on the table and he felt nervous. More nervous than usual.   

"Perhaps it would be easier if you  _opened_ the book, Mr. Stevens."  

The students laughed at his sarcasm and if they were laughing like that at one joke, Erik hated to imagine how they would react to his struggle. He opened the page and twitched his fingers, tapping the floor with his feet back and forth. Another student who sat next to him noticed his panicky state and frowned. He'd noticed Erik's previous attempts at reading on his own, and how he'd push the book to the side out of anger and punched his desk. The boy didn't understand at first but with observation, it became easier to notice. Before Erik could feebly attempt it, Mr. Stark's attention was stolen by a raised hand.  

"I would like to read myself. I feel like I have not contributed to the classroom yet."  

Erik turned to him and looked with disbelief as if he'd lost his glasses and couldn't see properly. He simply smiled at Erik and opened his book.   

"Okay, T'Challa, I have no problem with that. Go ahead, chapter five where we were last time."  

 _"They were a witch and wizard, if that's what you mean..."_   

T'Challa read the text perfectly, not even breaking his concentration as Erik glimpsed at him. Erik stopped paying attention to the words and couldn't help but stare at the boy next to him. They'd never even spoken before but they were sat next to each other for months. After two minutes Mr. Stark interrupted T'Challa.  

"Thanks for that. For those of you aware of the series who do you think this is talking, and for those who aren't, how does this resemble discrimination and prejudice? If you want, talk to the person next to you, you've got five minutes to come up with something."  

Erik swiveled his body to face T'Challa, who was writing in his book. He coughed to gain his attention and T'Challa chuckled awkwardly.  

"I do apologize, I assumed you were working on your own."  

"Why's that?"  

"This is our first conversation since you started sitting here."  

Erik nodded guiltily and threw his hands up in a surrendering motion.  

"That's on me, bro. I've never read, erm..."  

He regretted picking up the book and stared at the text with confusion, only seeing a boy on a broom with his hand out. Erik scratched his beard to prolong the inevitable but T'Challa knew what he was trying to do.  

" _Harry Potter._ It is okay, I understand, there is nothing to be ashamed of."  

Erik's blood boiled and he already felt embarrassed. His fists became clenched and he gave T'Challa a mean look, snarling at him with his words.  

"What the fuck do you mean  _ashamed_?"   

T'Challa felt bad and realized he'd stepped too fast.  

"I just meant-"  

"Nah fuck what you meant, you think you know me, huh?"  

Erik was ready to leave the room but he couldn't draw any attention to himself so he could only huff and face away from T'Challa. Sometimes, T'Challa tried to help without telling someone he wanted to help, so it came across the wrong way. This was one of those times. With his back to T'Challa, Erik ignored everybody for the rest of the lesson and T'Challa waited until the bell rang to talk. Erik dropped his book trying to get it while not looking at T'Challa, and when he reached to get it he saw T'Challa's hand on it too.  

"I got it,  _thank you_."   

T'Challa's hands were definitely bigger than Erik's, but Erik didn’t want to stare for too long. T'Challa bit the inside of his mouth and swallowed hard like he was choking on a lump in his throat.  

"My apologies for earlier, I did not mean to offend you."  

Erik slumped against his desk and T'Challa copied him.  

"I know. I'm sorry for the way I reacted, it was uncalled for. But I  _can_ read, that's why I got so defensive. It's just...the words, they get muddled around like one big bowl of word cornflakes."  

T'Challa looked at the now upset boy in front of him, bowing his head in shame and feeling like he had to explain himself.  

"I know. My sister is studying Psychology and she had a debate about a neurological disorder, and whether or not it should be included in the course. She says if it is not, she will find another school that offers Neurology."  

Erik left his tongue on his lip and smiled.  

"What does that have to do with me?"  

"You could be affected, without even knowing."  

Erik frowned at him and sighed.  

"Can't say that I could tell if I was. But are you trying to say I need to ride the short bus?"  

He sucked his teeth and tried to leave but T'Challa stopped him by cutting him off.  

"Get outta my way, you're starting to piss me off."  

He moved again and this time T'Challa put his hand on Erik's chest and stopped him from moving.  

"Listen to me, do not mock that sort of condition. I am tired of hearing rude students berate people who are different. It is simply a coward's way of cloaking his own insecurity. There is nothing wrong with having a neurological disorder, Erik."  

T'Challa's voice was firm, instead of his usual passively calm tone. It shocked Erik to see him this serious. This made him want to listen more.  

"What are you getting at? So what if I do have it? What does it matter?"  

"I want to help you."  

Erik looked with doubt and scoffed but saw no joke in T'Challa's face.  

 "Meet me outside here after your final period, I'll help you with your reading."  

"And why would you do that?"  

"I cannot read any more for you, I am very shy myself," he smiled. "Remember, by this door."  

He pointed to the door and left Erik on his own, dazed in shock of what had just occurred. Nobody had ever offered to help Erik, only punish him, and yet this boy was willing to help him with something that haunted him for his entire life as a student. What made him smile was T'Challa's departing sentence. He stepped out of his comfort zone for Erik, and even after everything Erik had said to him, he didn't seem to regret it.   

 _Maybe he's not too bad after all_ , Erik thought, smiling with his copy of  _Harry Potter and the_ _Sorcerer's_ _Stone_ in his hand. 


	4. Ultimatum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> T'Challa has a choice to make, and he knows there's no good ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided to experiment with a lot of writing methods/styles, and this was trying out present tense.

"You're a motherfuckin'  _what_?" Erik yells, scolding T'Challa with his expressions. Suddenly, everything magical between them disappears. His heart jumps back and forth, he cannot comprehend what he's just heard but T'Challa looks more crushed. The detective knows he's lost Erik forever, but in his mind, losing him to hatred is better than losing the love of his life to either jail or death. The badge Erik finds in T'Challa's raggedy jumper is now out of the window, on its own course to an exit but T'Challa doesn't miss the gold piece of betrayal to Erik. 

They're both bare-chested but T'Challa is the first to attempt to dress, he tries to pick up his jumper from the ground but Erik slaps his hand and growls at him. 

"I'm a detective." 

Erik feels his eyes quiver in motion with his lips, but he's too proud to show any more emotion to the liar in the room, so he pushes a table over instead. The floor becomes surrounded by money and unsold drugs but neither man cares about the mess. This was going to be Erik's last deal before he fled with T'Challa, but after the truth emerges Erik wants nothing to do with him. 

"Everything we had, we did, we  _felt_...it was all  _fake_?" 

This time he can't hold it back the flows of his tears and they stream down his face, leaving wet lines trickling down his cheek. The image of an emotional Erik is daunting to T'Challa because he refused to open up about how he felt until they met for the fifth time. But the question's worst, it makes T'Challa swallow a heavy lump in his throat and he aims to reach for Erik's cheek but Erik sways. 

"Of course not. I would not be doing what I am if I did not love you." 

The dealer's confused until he finally lets T'Challa wipe away the tears in his face. 

"If you make this deal, you will die. The police do not intend to arrest you but instead terminate you in order to set an example. I'm telling you this so you can leave with what you have – the money and your life." 

Erik's calm, no longer developing a deep hatred for T'Challa. He never could anyway. The Oakland man begins to pack his things but finds not much of it can be taken. He grunts with annoyance and notices T'Challa's lack of movement. 

"You not packin' anything? S'alright, we'll get new shit at the airport. So how you gonna quit? Won't it be obvious if we leave straight away?" 

The unanswered questions make him uneasy, and he identifies T'Challa's sorrow.  

"You ain't...you ain't comin' with me?" 

His voice is shaky, full of disbelief and heartbreak. T'Challa can't look at him and tell him what he already knows. But it's only right. 

"Erik...these people have been after you for four years, and you've killed twelve of their undercover detectives. They believed for today to be your last breathing day, so imagine what they will do when they discover I have taken that from them." 

Erik begins to cry and shook his head, holding T'Challa's head between his two palms. The touch is warm, and Erik can't imagine not feeling it again. 

"You  _can't_ die, please! I'm beggin' you, come with me!" 

"I cannot." 

They squeeze each other tightly and wish to never let go, but it's time. T'Challa knows after being called by his superiors, they are aware of where he is. They even asked him not to do it, knowing what they will have to do. But none of that matters now. They finish the last moment of affection they'll ever share, kissing gently and trying not to sob as their lips are connected. Erik says goodbye with red eyes and closes the door behind him. He hears a discussion and walks down the stairs, noticing two men strolling in the direction of his hotel room. 

"I'll see you up there one day, T'Challa." 

The steps out of the building are the hardest, he hears multiple shots and when he turns around, sees two flashes in the window belonging to his room. T'Challa lays on the floor, coughing up his own blood and grins at the two men staring at him. 

"I hope it was worth it, T'Challa." 

"Oh...it...was." 

His body slumps and life exits his eyes, but the smile never leaves his face. 


	5. Too Peachy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> T'Challa wants to make Erik feel special forever, and never wants anyone to take advantage of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Mlhbenz, "T’Challa being overprotective and just spoiling Erik I just think Erik deserves someone to treat him like a precious flower and spoil him like he never got in life". 
> 
> I loved the request and tried my hardest to match it. Feedback is always appreciated!

"What about this one?" 

It's the ninth time T'Challa asks that question. Erik smiles and spins around in the shirt, it's a good fit. Perfect even. Every week, when T'Challa finally gets a break from bonds and shares, they go shopping together but usually, only T'Challa is the only one buying anything. But this time the situation is different because they're looking for anniversary outfits instead of casually shopping. Erik loves the feel of this shirt but he doesn't enjoy the color.  

"Naw, it's too peachy." 

T'Challa smirks and slides behind his boyfriend, smothering him with kisses that warm the nape of his neck. 

"Are peaches not the emojis you send to my phone?" 

He's right. Erik always sends him confirmation of just how good his ass is, and he giggles knowing he's guilty. T'Challa's embrace gathers a few stares from their peers but he doesn't care and neither does Erik.  

"Fine, I guess I could try it. But only 'cause it won't be on for too long tonight." 

His tongue elevates and pokes through his teeth, a devilish look that makes T'Challa want to sin. But the stares begin to irritate him and he doesn't appreciate the negative attention towards Erik.  

"Babe, what's wrong?"  

T'Challa holds the back of his lover's head, kissing the braided hair on his scalp. It smells  _so_ good, the aroma of grapefruit makes him calmer.  

"Nothing is wrong. I'm just going to grab something for us to eat, would you like anything?" 

Erik asks for anything sweet, he knows T'Challa will pick the right choice. He always does. T'Challa presses his lips against Erik's for three seconds, saying goodbye. Erik's still trying on shirts and notices once T'Challa is gone, the staff members are walking closer to him. 

T'Challa finds a vendor selling churros and grabs five, knowing Erik will likely eat three of them. The thought of his messy-eating, always-hungry boyfriend pushes a smile and he remembers the best times they ate together. But his focus is torn when he hears a voice, similar to Erik's, yelling. 

"I ain't stealin' shit! My boyfriend's on his way back and I ain't even left the store!" 

The African runs into the room and he's never looked angrier. Before the security can even touch Erik, T'Challa intervenes and wedges himself in between. 

"You listen to me. If even one finger that is not mine is laid on him, I will bring a wrath unto you like Bast delivers to the evil." 

The security guard steps back, humiliated and agitated. Erik's breathing is altered, more aggressive and T'Challa cups his chin, pushes his forehead against Erik's and closes his eyes. 

"Erik, I need you to calm down. If we cause a bigger scene, they win." 

"But they've got no fuckin' right treatin' me like a criminal!" 

T'Challa's breath blows onto the bridge of Erik's nose and it's rhythmic, like ocean waves. 

Erik sighs and whimpers slightly. He's devastated by the situation but T'Challa's methods work. Erik's calm, his breaths are in sync and he feels less pissed. 

"I'll pay for these like I intended to." 

T'Challa buys the shirts and holds Erik's hand, proud of his boyfriend for staying calm. He won't let anybody get into Erik's head, except for him. And that's only to be there for him mentally, as well as physically. 

* 

Erik lays on T'Challa's legs in their garden. Both of them are hypnotized by the sky and Erik smiles at a cloud that looks like T'Challa's beard. 

"Thank you for today. You've really changed me, T'Challa." 

T'Challa strokes his cheek with a thumb and grins. 

"You changed yourself, Erik. I simply helped." 

Erik moves up and puts his shoulders next to T'Challa's. They both watch the clouds and Erik turns to him. 

"Yeah, but you're always buyin' me shit ya know? You know how to treat a guy. And you stop me from gettin' angry, losin' my shit." 

T'Challa pecks him on the forehead with a quick kiss and moves to his side, as does Erik. They gaze into each other's dark coffee brown eyes and it's beautiful. 

"Erik, when I met you, you were surviving off what I'd spend on one piece of clothing every month. You were not able to enjoy things most people got to, especially with a rough upbringing. If I can make you smile once a day, I'll pass away a happy man when the time comes. You were a violent man, within reason, and people can take advantage of that. I will never allow that to happen." 

"Unless they try to hurt _you_ , then they've got a fuckin' problem." 

Erik feels like nothing can take their moment away, but he has to break away from them for a minute. 

"I'll be right back." 

T'Challa's confused but glares at the sky and chuckles, happy with where he is. Erik takes longer than a minute but as T'Challa leans forward Erik pounces on him and giggles at the 'oof' T'Challa gives. 

"Damn, T, you're so impatient," he laughs. "Close your eyes." 

T'Challa closes his eyes and smiles at all the thoughts of what it could be, especially at the dirty ones. He feels something light drop in his palm and remains blind until Erik gives him permission to see again. The projection of what's in his hand renders him speechless, it's his father's ring that he thought he lost years ago. 

"I couldn't afford a ring but you always treat me good so I thought it's only right to repay the favor. It was under the floorboards by the way." 

Truth be told, Erik was looking for his necklace but when he found the ring, he scratched everything he could together to get it repaired. T'Challa says nothing and simply steals the air from Erik's throat, kissing him until his mouth goes numb. After that, he finds another way to say thank you. 


	6. Oppressors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik meets T'Challa, who changes his mind about a lot of things. But his friends don't seem to agree with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by 'Reader', where Erik hates the thought of Wakanda until he meets T'Challa, and when the topic is brought up with Erik's friends they tease and belittle T'Challa, prompting Erik to defend his boyfriend and leave.

"Oh...you're from Wakanda?"

Erik's voice slumps, visibly disappointed and it makes T'Challa curious. Why somebody's place of birth would affect the conversation was definitely unusual to him.

"Is there a problem?"

There is, but Erik does not want there to be. Their date was going perfectly, and Erik opened up about his own personal desires such as helping as many people as he can. But T'Challa brings up how his father tried his hardest to do the same and now Erik's...disappointed?

"It's just...Wakanda ain't exactly the helping type. I want to take over the oppressors, ya know? Release our brothers and sisters from the bondage of corruption and racism our ancestors went through. No offense but I don't see Wakanda doing anything but staying out of it."

T'Challa clears his throat, leans forward and smiles. 

"I understand your point of view. But please, allow me to explain why we are such an isolated nation."

"Go ahead, man."

"We do our best to reach out to others, we have War Dogs working undercover to prevent any sort of conflict in certain areas. For example, we have prevented a  _lot_ of trafficking. As for our resources, we cannot simply deliver and receive nothing, but there is not much we would need anyway. It's not about getting something, but if we gave our resources to some countries and not others, it would start a mass conflict between nations."

With an explanation like that, Erik has no words but no he finally gets it. And the way T'Challa sounds talking about the situation is so smooth as well. It's sexy.

*

"Man, fuck all that bullshit. How are we meant to stick together if our own people hide resources from us?"

Erik wishes he never invited Maurice and Jamal now. T'Challa looks attacked but remains with a smile on his face. Erik gives T'Challa a glare and feels pissed.

"Erik, I don't even know why you changed your mind, this man _and_ Wakanda's just plain fuckin' selfish. Back in Oakland, yeah we may not be the richest part of the world but we got each other's back bruh."

T'Challa sighs and clenches his jaw, almost ready to leave but before he can open his mouth he's interrupted.

"What kinda king leaves people on their own, being the continent that's one of the most gravely affected areas by poverty, dehydration and starvation? I get if you were isolated in somewhere fancy, but you know the fuckin' situation and you watch it! Black Panther? More like Black  _Oppressor_."

Erik slaps the glass in front of him, it makes a line of water slip out and fall just before it smashes. Both Maurice and Jamal are taken aback and look at the now visibly pissed Erik.

"T'Challa, let's go. Fuckin' chumps man."

"With pleasure. You gentlemen enjoy your day."

They walk out and while Erik is happy to leave, he's upset to see T'Challa's face, which looks disappointed and hurt. He stops T'Challa in the street and holds both of his hands.

"Baby, I'm  _so_ fuckin' sorry about that. I didn't expect them to be so rude."

T'Challa smiles slightly and raises his eyes from the floor to Erik's.

"Do not worry about it. Remember how you felt when we first met?"

"So you're not mad?"

T'Challa kisses Erik on his neck, then his cheek, and finally his lips. They smile and everything seems like it's fixed. 

"I cannot be mad at you.  _But_...while you may not be sleeping on the couch tonight, we  _will_ be watching  _Titanic_ instead of  _Fast and Furious_ tonight."

T'Challa grins and Erik laughs, kissing him again.

"Sounds fair to me."


	7. Honey Pancakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> T'Challa falls ill and Erik tries his best to comfort him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by an anonymous user on Tumblr.
> 
> Sorry for the rare input recently, I've been adjusting to Tumblr but I need to address a few things. As you can see, I've closed a few works for now so that I can continue with Royal Husbands and a new, requested work that I've been talking to multiple users about. It'll be out by the end of tomorrow!

“Bast have mercy on me,” T'Challa moans. The king’s riddled with sweat and his stomach hurts so much he wants to cry. His body curls into a ball and every few minutes a wild groan escapes and enters Erik’s room. At first, he ignores it but soon it grows too much for him and even a man like Erik can feel compassion from the sounds T'Challa makes.

“For fuck’s sake, I wanted the other room, but  _no_  it has to be the one next to  _him_ ,” Erik complains, throwing his book on the floor. With mild hesitation, he walks to T'Challa’s room and sees him in agony. A twitch nearly leaves a smile in the corner of his mouth but T'Challa moans again and now Erik regrets even being the tiniest bit humored.  

“Erik? Is that you?”

Erik is slow to answer, in his mind he wants to leave T'Challa to suffer after everything they’ve been through. But his heart tells him he’s not capable of being so cruel, despite what happened between them beforehand.

“Yeah…it’s me. What are you makin’ so much noise about T?”

T'Challa’s arms are tight around his stomach and he painfully turns his body to see Erik. His cousin projects a concerned look but hides it with a smile quickly after, which makes T'Challa feel slightly better. Erik may not be proud to show it, but he cares about T'Challa.

“I’m ill, Erik. Or did you think this was for fun?” T'Challa chuckles. Erik scoffs with a grin and shakes his head. “It hurts so much, like a blazing fire running through my body.”

Erik approaches him and sits next to him, he gives T'Challa a smile.

“Why don’t you get Shuri, or Nakia, or even Auntie to help you? They sure were desperate to get you fixed when I was king.”

His face tells T'Challa he was joking but his tone says something else. Erik may put on a tough front but he has feelings too, and he is still crushed to the present day after his entire family went behind his back to overthrow him. He does not care that T'Challa stabbed him in the chest, but he cares that his family stabbed him in the back.

“Nakia…she’s on a mission. Mother…she’s at a meeting. Shuri…she’s at…well…Coachella.”

Erik laughs and even T'Challa finds humor in the situation once he says it out loud.

“Okay, kitten. I’ll look after you. First of all, let’s get that shirt off. You’re way too hot-”

“I’m sorry, what?” T'Challa snickers. He knows what he’s doing by interrupting Erik.

“-your temperature. You’re clearly sweating, you big idiot.”  

Both of them are smiling and it makes T'Challa feel better. With help from Erik, he takes his clingy shirt off and when Erik throws it on the ground it sounds a wet towel slapping against concrete. But Erik quickly becomes clueless – he’s never been taken care of when he was ill so he has no idea what to do.  

“Uh…what’s next? You want me to scratch behind your ear or…?”

T'Challa giggles and looks at Erik with a sweaty face.

“You do realize I’m not actually a cat, right? I should say that now before you decide to make me any food, I do not like lasagna.”

Erik murmurs under his breath and chuckles. He wipes the sweat off T'Challa’s face and cups his chin in his hands.

“You got those big ass Puss in Boots eyes, how am I meant to know?”

“My eyes may be large and cute, but yours should still work.”

The conversation is amusing to both of them and it takes away the pain of being ill for T'Challa, as well as the pain of being lonely for Erik.

“Oh yeah? Maybe I should scratch after all, huh? Huh?”

Erik scratches lightly behind T'Challa’s ear and across his chin which earns a wild smile from the ill man.

“Stop it! I am not a cat!” T'Challa laughs and he coughs after it breaks down to giggling.

Erik leaves T'Challa’s side and stands up.

“I’ve got it, stay right here. Imma make you the best honey pancakes you’ve ever had. A treat for the throat and the taste buds.”

T'Challa nods and waits for Erik to return. He closes his eyes and enjoys how cooled down he feels with no shirt on.

Erik returns after a while and spots T'Challa sleeping so he sits on the bed softly to wake him up.

“Hey, T'Challa?”

His cousin wakes up and mumbles, he leans forward with a bit more energy but still feels weak.

“Open wide, this will be better than any fuckin’ drink you’ve had before.”

T'Challa’s eyes widen as Erik holds his jaw and pours honey down his mouth. It’s smooth, but Erik’s hold feels even better. His hands are gentle, warm and his fingers lightly press into his jaw. T'Challa closes his eyes after and slightly smiles, much to the shock of Erik. But he’s not shocked in a bad way.

“Damn, T. What are you thinking ‘bout, you naughty kitten?”

T'Challa grins and swallows as he looks into Erik’s eyes. Erik leaves the plate of pancakes next to him and stands up.

“Here, take this. I’m gonna leave you to eat, aight?”

Suddenly the former prince’s eyes droop and he pouts.

“I cannot finish this all on my own. Will you stay with me?”

Erik sighs and moves next to him, shoulder to shoulder.

“Aight, but try not to touch me, I can’t afford to get-”

His words are halted by a kiss on his neck, it’s a slow but powerful kiss that warms his neck. Erik looks at T'Challa in shock but then moves closer to his face and kisses him on the lips. They begin to get serious and T'Challa moans weakly in satisfaction.

“Bruh, I’m gonna get ill.”

“We can stop if you want.”

Erik doesn’t break from the kiss and does not even think about doing so.

“Fuck that.”


	8. Birthday Surprises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> T'Challa wants to surprise Erik in the best way possible for his birthday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still on a hiatus for a while, but I thought I'd update this list of one-shots.
> 
> This is for the 'Wakanda In My Pants Spring Fling 2018' Exchange Event hosted by https://foshriizzle.tumblr.com/

“Where are they?” T'Challa asks himself, he cannot sound angrier at himself if he tries. He frowns strongly and searches the couch for the comic con tickets he knows Erik will love after all the times he’s caught Erik shouting the same quotes as… _Goki? Gokai?_  T'Challa chuckles at his obvious mistake in his mind but does not find the right answer in his head. All he knows is Erik is about to wake up and he wants to surprise his boyfriend on his birthday. At last, once he looks under the sink he finds the tickets buried at the back. Of course, T'Challa and Erik always compete in a battle of who gives the best head under the table to see who gets away with not doing the dishes. T'Challa swears to it that Erik’s cheating with those tender lips of his.

Erik wakes up shortly after T'Challa’s hunt and discovers T'Challa packing a bag. In his mind, there’s no need to get dressed so he doesn’t. Out of him walking into the kitchen bare naked and T'Challa acting secretive with a bag, the latter is the most concerning to Erik despite the constant complaints from neighbors – apparently, it’s hard to enjoy the sunrise when all they can see is something else rising on the balcony opposite them.

“Good mornin’ babe, what’s up with the packin’?”

He moves behind T'Challa and warms the nape of the darker man’s neck with soft kisses.

“First of all,  _happy birthday_. Secondly, good morning to you too and thirdly, that’s for me to know.”

Each point T'Challa makes opens with a kiss to Erik’s cheek after he tilts his head to the right.  

“ _Thank you_ ,” Erik sings. “But why the secrets? Is it…a  _present_?”

T'Challa swivels his body so he faces his eager partner and Erik’s eyes cannot focus on the tickets he’s now shoved into his pockets. Erik smothers T'Challa’s face with kisses but his hands do not get close to the hidden prize.  

“Nice try. This will remain a secret until I wish to reveal it to you.”

Erik whines and tries to shake T'Challa’s arms out of his pockets but finds no success.

“Okay, but only because you’ve clearly put a lotta effort into it. I love you  _so much_. If you’re gonna be a while, I might play some ‘ball until you’re ready.”

“Okay, but I’ll need you to be back here in about an hour, try not to get too sweaty.”

T'Challa enjoys the departing kiss Erik gives him and smiles. This is going to be an amazing surprise for his boyfriend.

*

Erik jumps up the stairs and opens the front door, his sweat drips viciously off his forehead and hands. The absence of T'Challa bothers him and he scopes the room for the chance of a hiding Wakandan.  

“Hey, 'Chally? You here?”

“Up here! In the bedroom!” T'Challa shouts from above, but Erik barely hears it. When he jumps up the stairs he sees something he never expects to witness – T'Challa standing in their bedroom, wearing a cosplay outfit.

They both laugh intensely and T'Challa gives Erik a long hug, which follows with a kiss. The wig T’Challa wears itches Erik’s nose but it’s worth the potential sneeze.

“Babe, what are you dressed as?” Erik giggles.  

“Reverend Brown, from Coming to America,” he smiles. “You know how much I love Eddie Murphy movies. Here’s yours, I could not find anything to do with that animated violence you love to watch but it’s from the comic series,  _Fantastic Four?_ ”

He pulls out Erik’s outfit and Erik can’t help but grin with excitement when he realizes it’s his favorite character.

“No way! Johnny Storm!? T'Challa, you’re the freaking best!”

“That is not all, I have something else for you,” T'Challa starts. “Close your eyes, please.”

“Okay…”

Erik closes his eyes and grins, especially when a piece of something that feels like paper touches his palm. When he opens them and reads the words, he starts to tear up a bit.

“Co-Comic Con? T'Challa…this is all…perfect. Thank you so much, I love you ‘Chally. So…fucking…much.”

They embrace their affection for about two minutes, kissing and holding tight to one another. T'Challa has Erik’s birthday completed perfectly and they haven’t left yet. Erik’s face dries the tears eventually and he puts his costume on. When he looks in the mirror he notices how tight it is in the back, but T'Challa knows what he’s doing.

“Shall we go, Reverend Brown?”

He braids his fingers into T'Challa’s and they leave the house. As T'Challa locks the door, Erik pretends to activate his suit.

“Flame on,” he says, but T'Challa shakes his head.

“No, baby, it’s like this.  _Flame on!_ ”

He slaps Erik’s ass and Erik yelps, T'Challa simply grips his cheeks through the tight suit and laughs into Erik’s neck before smooching it. Erik can only giggle and kisses him back.

“Happy Birthday, Erik.”


	9. Regrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik and T'Challa argue, but a suggestion of makeup sex might be what fixes everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a little bit of smut during this hiatus - just a little longer i promise :)

Erik stares coldly at the floor, his mind only allows regret to flow through and something tells him that unless he makes a phone call soon, he’s going to lose everything he loves.

T’Challa thinks back to their argument and sighs, he shakes his head in anger that he lets the conflict get that far. But he doesn’t care about what was said now, he just wants it to be okay.

_“You’re saying that my daddy was a fuckin’ criminal!?”  
_

_T’Challa rolls his eyes and huffs._

_“That is not what I said, N’Jad-”  
_

_Erik turns and interrupts him._

_“Don’t use the same name my ‘criminal’ father gave me. At least he died for trying to change shit, and not in some fuckin’ explosion.”  
_

_He knows he’s fucked up. The way T’Challa’s mouth opens, the way his eyes water shows how unexpected that sentence is._

_“T’Challa, I-”_

_T’Challa grabs his jacket and shakes his head, his tears fall down his face. Erik tries to reach for him, but T’Challa brushes him off and leaves. The door slams and Erik swallows the fact he may have just lost T’Challa forever. He almost chokes._

After his shower, Erik looks for his phone. But T’Challa has it after he agrees to look after it when Erik says he’s going out for a few drinks. But he has his spare phone, somewhere, the one T’Challa says to always keep with him in case of an emergency. A few minutes of scrambling around for it proves successful, he finds the phone and calls T’Challa. It rings for a bit but then he answers.

“Hello?”

“T’Challa. It’s me, Erik.”

Erik cannot see anything but the space in conversation makes him aware of the mood, how hesitant T’Challa is to talk.

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry, for everything. I shouldn’t have talked shit about your old man and I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did. I know you’re still mad at me, so-”

“I…am not angry anymore. I accept your apology, but maybe…”

The ‘maybe’ terrifies Erik, all the possible endings to the sentence leave a burn in his chest.

“…maybe we can resolve this over a late dinner?”

Erik smiles and looks out of his window.

“Okay, nine o’clock good for you?”

“Sounds perfect.”

*

T’Challa returns to the house when Erik is finishing the touches on his shirt. Ties are…not exactly his area of preference but for T’Challa, he will wear a million ties. Erik curses under his breath and frowns but, T’Challa surprises him and helps him with his tie.

“You were never good with these,” T’Challa chuckles. “You still are not, I see.”

Erik laughs as T’Challa tightens the tie and moves back to look at him. He raises his hands in surrender.

“Guilty. Look, I-”

T’Challa hushes and covers his mouth with two fingers.

“Let’s just enjoy dinner.”

*

The conversation repeats itself; how good the food is, what’s inside and the possibilities of secret ingredients. But now it’s time for the awkward part.

“I’m so, so sorry about what I said. It was uncalled for and I was an ass, okay?”

T’Challa smirks and nods.

“You was. But so was I, and I must apologize. I do not word things perfectly sometimes, I do not believe your father was a criminal. How can we make this better?”

“How about some makeup sex?” Erik insists, T’Challa grins in response.

“Maybe just oral sex, I had a shower not long ago and I’d hate to get sweaty again.”

Erik nods with a teasing grin and takes his hand.

“What kitty wants, kitty gets.”

*

The covers only hide the back of Erik’s head and T’Challa’s waist, the rest of the covers are raggedy and twisted, revealing most of both men’s bare bodies. Erik savors the taste of T’Challa’s cock in his mouth and moves his mouth back and forth, slicking the cock and giving T’Challa a reason to bite his lip. 

“Erik…”

“I gotcha, don’t trip.”

Erik lets T’Challa slide deeper into his throat, when he feels naughty he licks the sensitive tip and its slit, which only sends T’Challa further into an orgasmic frenzy. Pre-come soon spurts out and Erik is quick to scoop it with his tongue, the tangy taste excites him. Erik’s mouth feels so good, those golden grills are doing the trick and T’Challa pants, like a thirsty dog. 

“N’Jad… _Erik_ ,” he moans and Erik quickly detaches.

“Say it, it’s okay. Say it.”

“ _N’Jadaka, please_ ,” T’Challa pleads, he whimpers slightly. “I’m going to come soon.”

He grips Erik’s dreads and as Erik keeps sucking the urge to arch his back becomes too much to ignore, and he does so. He can feel it, he knows it’s going to explode soon but he hangs onto the current moment like his life depends on it. T’Challa’s stomach bounces up and down with every breath and again, more pre-come slips out but this time Erik removes his mouth to kiss the tip. His teasing works wonders on T’Challa and the king moans in deep satisfaction.

“You gonna come for me?”

“I’m going to come for you…”

Erik begins to grip T’Challa’s slicked cock and moves his hand up and down quickly, T’Challa starts to feel a flush of overwhelming heat in his cheeks.

“Who are you going to come for? Say his name…”

“N’Jadaka. I’m going to come for N’Jadaka!”

Erik’s hands move faster and T’Challa begins to gasp, he knows he’s close and his free hand grips the mattress as tight as he can. Erik licks the tip just before and T’Challa yells, his eyes roll all the way up.

“ _N’Jadaka!_ ”

His body shakes violently as white streams of orgasm spurt from his slit all over Erik’s face and chest. T’Challa comes for longer than he usually does, and Erik lets him paint his face and chest with his seed.

“That’s it…let it  _all_  out…”

Once T’Challa is empty, they both become frail and Erik rubs his boyfriend’s semen all over his scarred chest. The lines dripping between his lips slip into his mouth and he smiles. 

“You’ve never had that much nut before…”

“If you keep doing what you did, it will not be the last time,” T’Challa smiles.

“So did I help make it better?” Erik asks.

“Oh yes, definitely. Good night Erik,” T’Challa says, he kisses Erik multiple times and gets a bit of himself on his lips. He closes his eyes and licks his lips, ready to sleep. Everything’s better now. 


	10. Survival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> T'Challa and Erik find themselves lost in a forest, and unsure of their feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's getting close to the time where I can write full-time on Ao3, I'm excited to update so many WIPs. Here's a Tumblr prompt if you haven't read it already.

All T'Challa hears when he wakes up is ringing, he can only smell burning and his sight is limited to smoke. But his mind quickly tells him something is wrong as he stands up.  _Where’s Erik?_

T'Challa cannot breathe, he swivels his hips quickly in hopes to see Erik but he cannot. The king becomes blind to the smoke and ashes circling the trees close to him, he needs to find Erik now. From the looks of the dried blood on his forehead, T'Challa needs to make sure his cousin is not in worse condition than he is.

“ _N'Jadaka!_ ” T'Challa yells, the former prince is aware of how much Erik despises people addressing him by his birth name – the constant comparison he makes is the noise of nails on a chalkboard. But T'Challa cannot take his preferences into consideration right now, he needs to ensure Erik isn’t bleeding out against a burning tree.

His Panther Habit is torn, in multiple areas of the body, there’s no explanation as to why it’s not repairing itself but barely any blood leaks from the open parts of the suit. But then he comes across a sight that tears something else – his heart.

“Erik?”

T'Challa sees his cousin laying on the floor, with similar tears to his Jaguar habit. The image pushes a whimper out of the king and he slowly walks towards the lifeless body. T'Challa picks up speed when he sees Erik’s bloody nose and falls to his knees, pushing Erik’s body.

“Erik!? N'Jadaka, please!” T'Challa yells, he cannot cradle another dead body. Shaking the body makes no progression until Erik’s mouth extends and T'Challa’s tears cease. The asshole’s  _yawning_.

“Sup ‘cuz? I’m just trying to sl-”

Erik’s reactions are not quick enough to counter T'Challa slapping and punching his chest, visibly upset and annoyed.

“ _Do-you-know-how-worried-I-was!?_ ”  

Each word follows with a hit and Erik laughs in pain, he feels guilty for making T'Challa worried but it still amuses him.

“Okay, okay! I’m sorry, aight?”

T'Challa huffs and rolls his eyes, he’s not happy with Erik but he’s relieved to see Erik’s still alive. Pulling Erik up, they stand together and look at the burning Wakandan forest.

“Don’t ever do that again, alright?”

“Fine…What happened?”

“One of the engines in the Royal Talon Flyer failed, we crashed about twenty minutes ago,” T'Challa begins. He taps the Kimoyo beads laced around his wrist and also tries Erik’s. No success. “It seems like we are on our own for this one. Have you ever heard about what lives in the forest?”

Erik looks around and sees his blade. With a quick motion, he picks it up and looks at T'Challa with a grin.

“I don’t need to, as of this moment  _I’m_  living in the fuckin’ forest now.”

***

Two days pass and T'Challa feels a lot worse. His wounds need attending but neither of them own any clothes to wrap around the wounds. He stumbles with his arm around Erik’s shoulder but he manages to push through until they reach the bottom of a waterfall.

“You been here before, T?”

T'Challa weakly chuckles.

“Shut up.”

Erik lays T'Challa against a large boulder and looks for anything that can help, but he sees nothing. Once he assesses T'Challa, he notices something.

“Hey, you’re bleeding.”

“Yes, I can see.”

“No, you can’t. The blood’s not coming from the rips in your suit, it’s coming from underneath the suit, we need to get you fixed up, now. Let me put some water on it, get it cleaned up.”

T'Challa sits forward with a groan and looks at Erik.

“Erik…the habits destroyed all of our clothing…including-”

“T'Challa, I ain’t gonna let you die ‘cos you forgot to bring a spare pair of boxers,” Erik laughs. The king has to admit it’s funny and laughs with him. “Deactivate it. Look, I’ll do the same so you feel less uncomfortable.”

They both deactivate their suits and look at each other with awkward glares as the revelation of skin travels down their bodies. They share a few playful kisses in the past, but this…this is much more than kissing each other’s cheeks as a joke. Although more happens between them in the past than they like to admit. T’Challa stands up again with struggle and moves towards the water.

“Okay…let’s get you washed up.”

T'Challa limps to the water and shivers at how cold it is on his feet. Erik seems to be focused on something else, he ignores the harsh temperature of the water.

“Shit, if we go hungry we could always cut off a bit of yo’ ass. Looks like we’d be set for a few weeks,” Erik chuckles and T'Challa turns around like Erik is pinching him.

“Are you serious? This is supposed to make me more comfortable?”

“I’m joking man. Just sit here and it’ll be over soon.”

T'Challa does so and winces at the blend of the cold and his cuts stretching. Erik gets on his knees and starts caressing T'Challa’s body with wet palms. His hands course over the wounds but at points T'Challa swears to himself that Erik’s covering regular skin.  He seems to be enjoying it a lot more than T’Challa, but T’Challa appreciates how gentle his cousin is to him, considering the past between them. Erik touches a wound across the right-side of T'Challa’s lower abdomen and his finger accidentally opens the cut a bit more. 

“ _Ah!_ ”

Erik opens his eyes and looks at T'Challa.

“Water too cold?” He teases.

“Oh yes, it’s that. Not you sticking your fingers into my wounds like you dropped some change down there.”

Erik loves T'Challa’s sarcasm.

“I forgot how much cats hate water.”

“Erik, if I die, my last conversation is not going to be defending the fact I am not actually a cat.”

Erik chuckles and raises his eyebrows.

“I’d never let you die, T'Challa. I got you.”

The prince moves his hands to T'Challa’s thighs and T'Challa cannot help but make eye contact. His eyes connect with Erik’s, who’s been looking at him since he started, except for when he needs to look at possibly critical wounds.

“Almost done.”

T'Challa blames it on how his body is adjusting to the cold water, but something begins to grow underwater and he panics. Except he doesn’t panic with his face, no instead he looks away. What he fails to realize is that now he’s staring at Erik’s member, until he actually notices. T'Challa tries to move his eyes but he cannot and soon Erik becomes aware of it. That’s when T'Challa finally unfreezes.

“Erik, I-I apologize. I just lost focus from the pain,” T'Challa insists.

“So if I put my hand underwater, I ain’t gonna feel something hard?”

T'Challa nods silently and Erik smiles, he tries to put his hand underwater and T'Challa stops him.

“Stop it! You’re not going to feel anything!” T'Challa yells, petrified.

“I’m just going fishing,” Erik laughs. “Oh, what’s this?”

“Nothing!” T'Challa giggles and once Erik gets a hold of it, they both fall silent. No words are spoken and out of nowhere, they both lean in to fuse their lips together, to create one moment that cannot be spoken of. T'Challa lets Erik’s silk tongue course down his neck, his lips assist the gesture, Erik grunts as T'Challa moans and he wants to fall back but he cannot. After ten more seconds T'Challa pushes him away and stands up, which prompts Erik to do the same.

Erik licks his lips and looks at T'Challa, who swallows something – guilt, confusion, lust…whatever it is makes him look as if he’s been caught committing murder.

“We need to collect some wood and some leaves. It’s a possibility we could be here for longer than expected. Come on.”

Erik smirks and watches T'Challa lead the two, his eyes follow T'Challa’s alluring cheeks and he envisions all the possibilities of what will happen if they get out of the forest. T'Challa could act like this never happens and they both live a life of endless pining. Or they can accept how they feel and act on it.  

And from the looks of T'Challa turning around, noticing Erik’s glimpse and giving him a smile, it seems like it will be the latter. It also helps that because the suits cannot repair themselves, they cannot be re-activated again.


	11. Something To Tell Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> T'Challa realizes he is gay and has feelings for Erik.

T'Challa cannot stop thinking about that day. He tries to hide it in the back of his mind but it still haunts him. Why does it have to be  _him_? Of course, he’s confused about how he feels in general, but the fact that it’s his own cousin who makes him realize how he feels, it makes it more complicated. It couldn’t be M'Baku could it? It has to be Erik.

_“Can you put something on, Erik? I don’t want to see…things I should not have to see.”_

_“It’s fuckin’ hot man! It’s not my fault Bast blessed me,” Erik teases. T'Challa rolls his eyes and looks away but finds his eyes tracing Erik’s body. “What the fuck, T?”_

_The level of disgust in his voice frightens T'Challa until he walks towards the bin and sees an empty container laying inside._

_“Fine, I ate your food. I will order you something tonight, okay? I apologize.”_

_Erik’s annoyed expressions fade and become a warm smile._

_“Aight. Apology accepted, I won’t trip about it. See you downstairs T.”_

_“See you in a bit, Erik.”_

_Erik does not see T'Challa’s head shake, trying to throw out a thought that doesn’t seem to go away._

The second Erik hears crying from a distance, he frowns. He knows exactly who it is. He takes giant leaps up the stairs and halts outside T'Challa’s door, two knocks leave him waiting for a response. But nothing. Just more crying and it sounds very vocal, Erik has only seen or heard T'Challa cry quietly.  

“T'Challa? Can I come in?”

The weeping lowers down and Erik hears T'Challa catching his breath.

“S-Sure.”

Erik walks in and sees T'Challa curling himself up into a ball in the corner of his room, right underneath his window and at the very back of his large bed. When he approaches the crying man, he notices torn magazines on the floor and on T'Challa’s bed, his bin is on its side and his books are scattered on the carpet. Erik’s face remains the same but he’s taken aback inside by the mess. T'Challa hides secrets well but this…this is something Erik knows he cannot predict. The prince of Wakanda always keeps composure and usually tells the complete truth, so not knowing what is happening with T'Challa makes Erik feel uneasy. Erik sits next to T'Challa and pats his lower leg.

“You wanna talk about what’s bothering you? I hate to see you like this, T.”

T'Challa leans forward and lets Erik wipe his tears as he nods. Erik’s thumb is smooth under his eyes, but T'Challa knows that’s a part of his problem.

“It…it involves Nakia, and myself.”

Nakia. The future wife all of the Udakus want for T'Challa. Erik wonders if she has broken up with him, but something in his voice tells him it is not that.

“What about Nakia? She say something, or do something?”

T'Challa scoffs and rolls his teary eyes.

“Of course not. Nakia could never hurt anyone, she’s too nice. It is me.”

“Okay…you don’t feel like going out with her anymore? It’s aight cuz, some people don’t feel the same way about people after a while.”

T'Challa sniffles and smiles, now he moves closer to Erik. He wants to tell his cousin how he feels but he’s never been more scared in his life. Not just scared but confused and it’s overwhelming for him.

“You are right about not feeling the same way about people…but it is something more complicated.”

Erik wraps an arm around T'Challa’s shoulders and looks him straight in the eyes. It comforts T'Challa and makes him feel safer. They are now shoulder to shoulder and it helps T'Challa’s crying lower down.

“You can tell me anything, T.”

T'Challa takes a deep breath and exhales slowly, he opens his eyes a bit and looks at Erik.

“Erik…I could not lie to Nakia any longer, so I ended our relationship. You know, the relationship everybody thought was perfect?”

“C'mere.”

Erik gives T'Challa a hug and rubs his back but once again, something tells him T'Challa isn’t mentioning everything.

“What were you lying about?”

He has T'Challa’s head under his chin and T'Challa does not break away, this time he cannot look Erik in the eyes.

“I don’t want to change the way you think about me.”

“T, you did that when you defeated me at Street Fighter. You know I’ll never judge you, I just wanna make you feel better, okay?”

Still in his hold, T'Challa sighs again but he quickly becomes visibly upset again. Erik cannot see T'Challa’s shame in his face.

“I…I am gay. I am attracted to men. And I don’t know why but…I’m attracted to you, Erik. I’m sorry if you think I’m a freak, or I’m weird, and-”

As his voice starts to crack and his eyes well up Erik squeezes him tightly and puts his head against the sobbing T'Challa’s, slowly rocking the crying man. He has no words to give but not in a bad way. The fact T'Challa trusts him with this and feels comfortable enough to say it to him makes Erik want to cry as well. Not just coming out to him, but telling him something as personal as that? Most people never tell somebody how they feel, especially in a case like this.

“Don’t say anything else. I’m so fuckin’ proud of you, T'Challa, and you will never make me feel any different, okay?”

Erik starts to feel his eyes water and in the last ‘okay’ T'Challa hears Erik’s voice shake.

“I tell you what, let’s get this bed cleaned up and I’ll sleep in here tonight.”

T'Challa breaks from the tightly-squeezed hug and smiles at Erik. He nods silently, but with a grin showing off his dentures. Every time T'Challa has a problem, Erik always sleeps in his bed. Every time Erik has an issue, he goes straight to T'Challa’s room and T'Challa welcomes him, no matter how late or early it is. They clean up the bed and both of them still have damp eyes, they both sniffle.

“Thank you, Erik. For not reacting so badly.”

“Of course, you’ve been there for me nearly my entire life.”

Memories of the two sitting on mountains made them both smile. T'Challa comforting Erik about his father’s death when they were just boys, Erik teaching T'Challa about the best ways to talk to women when they were teens and tomorrow, in their early twenties, they will return there again to talk about these feelings. Erik turns the light off and gets in with T'Challa, and he cannot stop smiling. Because tomorrow, maybe he gets to tell T'Challa something.


	12. Missing Boyfriend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When he can't find his boyfriend on his birthday, Erik remembers the day he met T'Challa.

When Erik wakes up from his slumber, his eyes open to an empty bed which bewilders him. He leans forward and notices a lack of presence regarding his boyfriend. He furrows an eyebrow and sits up, scoping the room for any hints but gets nothing in return for his searching efforts.  _He would go missing on my birthday,_  Erik thinks to himself. Erik never wakes up to an empty bed, his normal routine of waking up is kissing T’Challa and moaning because he doesn’t want T’Challa to get out of bed. Now alone, he pouts and slowly stands up, stretching and yawning. Once he’s semi-awake, Erik slowly stumbles to the bathroom, still not finding his partner. He calls T’Challa’s name out and then chuckles at the realization that unless T’Challa’s response is to approach him, he will not know if T’Challa hears him or not. He’s sure he yells loud enough and waits thirty seconds but nothing.  

Erik brushes his teeth and washes his face with cold water, staring into the mirror and observing his reflection. He still finds it weird to this day how he’s used to not hearing the faucet running, the collision of water into the sink once he washes his face. T’Challa is there for him from day one, he remembers exactly how they meet.  

T’Challa bumps into Erik at Starbucks, who sits alone watching anime on one tab and reading a comic book online on the other tab on his laptop. T’Challa feels nervous to talk to him, and Erik notices when he looks up and T’Challa looks down straight away, swerving eye contact not so subtly. It intrigues Erik and humors him because T’Challa looks so cute trying not to stare. The next time his head raises, Erik’s waiting for him with a huge smile and he gestures for T’Challa to join him by aiming his palm to the empty chair next to him.

 _‘Me?’_  T’Challa mouths and Erik giggles because it looks cute. Maybe he says it, Erik doesn’t know, but what he does see is T’Challa being adorably shy and confused. Erik nods with a wink and smiles, welcoming T’Challa who returns the happy expression and approaches Erik. Erik takes his earphones out and leaves them on the table, watching T’Challa sit down next to him. T’Challa opens his mouth and Erik reads  _‘I am D-Challer’_ , he knows he has gotten it wrong. He puts one finger up, gesturing ‘one second’ and opens up a Word Document.  

 

**_I’m pretty sure I read your name wrong…I’m Erik._ **

 

He laughs at T’Challa’s confusion and types again.

 

**_Oh yeah, I’m deaf by the way…_ **

 

T’Challa gives him a cute, understanding look and nods. He moves his palm to the laptop and gestures ‘May I?’, which Erik responds to with a nod.

 

_**My name is** **T’Challa** **. Why did you have earphones in if you can’t hear?** _

 

Erik smirks when he looks at T’Challa and types.

 

**_It’d be awkward to accidentally play it out loud and not know. Or look weird watching something with no sound._ **

 

T’Challa laughs and Erik giggles, when T’Challa takes another sip of his coffee Erik observes him.  

 

**_If I could hear your voice, would I be turned on?_ **

 

Erik chuckles as T’Challa reads and his eyes grow wide with a lack of anticipation. He looks at Erik with a teasing expression and bites his lip, typing an answer he knows will set Erik’s imagination wild.

 

_**Definitely. It’s deep, and smooth. You’d be amazed** **every day** **, but even the vibrations from my throat when I speak will be good enough for you.** _

 

Erik looks up straight away and T’Challa enjoys his reaction. He goes to type again and this time does it with fast pace.

 

_**You describe your voice like it’s fanfiction. Do you want to go out sometime, maybe I can feel that deep, smooth** **voice…?** _

 

T’Challa smiles at Erik, who looks in anticipation, and T’Challa takes his hand. He looks him in the eyes and grins with Erik’s palm flatly against his throat. Erik reads, and feels, ‘yes’.

Back in the present time, Erik grins at the memory and leaves the bathroom to look for T’Challa downstairs. He only wears yesterday’s basketball shorts but all that matters is finding his missing boyfriend. When he reaches the living room he finds a birthday cake laying on the table and something small, wrapped in gold wrapping. Before he can pick it up he feels himself being lifted off his feet and something wrap around his waist. Before he knows it, he’s being spun around and fails to contain his hysterical laughter, especially when he gets thrown onto the couch and identifies T’Challa as the one doing it. T’Challa pounces, kissing his neck and then his lips, Erik’s still laughing through the kiss.

 _“I love you,”_  T’Challa signs.  _‘I love you’_  is one of the first lines of sign language T’Challa learns, after all, he finds himself using it a lot.  _“Happy birthday!”_

Erik smiles and runs his fingers through T’Challa’s curls, reuniting their lips and signs _‘I love you too’_  with a smitten look on his face afterwards, as if he’s holding a box of kittens and saying ‘awww’. T’Challa slides away to let Erik open his present and he slowly unwraps it, eager to discover what it is. When the unwrapping is complete, he giggles at the realization that it’s the cup T’Challa drinks when they first meet when he finds the same name they give the cup –  _ **‘** **The Chiller’**_. But T’Challa stops him before he can hug him.

 _“Turn it around,”_  he signs. Erik raises an eyebrow and does so, reading the other side of the cup. There’s a lot of words, in small, black pen.

 

_**Erik, when I first met you, you were in Starbucks watching anime and reading comics. You were cute, funny and confident, and you made me feel confident. I have loved every second we have spent together, especially learning sign language and getting it horribly wrong at some points. I love waking up to your kisses every morning and falling asleep to your warmth every night. I love the way you smile even in your worst days, and your laugh when I do something stupid. You are the piece of art only I get to appreciate, and no price can buy or even compare to** **your** **beauty. I love your warm, brown eyes and those beautiful scars that I could individually kiss all the time. I want to spend the rest of my life being yours, so what I’m asking is…can you open the cup?** _

 

Erik feels multiple tears drop down his face and he looks so happy.  

 _“Thank you so much, I love you more than anything,”_  he signs.

 _“I love you too,”_  T’Challa signs.  _“Open it.”_

Erik looks at T’Challa, curious and overwhelmed with affection. He opens the lid and sees something at the bottom of the cup, so he picks it up and his head shoots up immediately to look at T’Challa with bulging eyes. It’s a ring.

 _“Will you marry me?”_  T’Challa signs with a huge smile on his face.  

 _“Yes! Yes! I love you, yes!”_  Erik signs with full effort, crying and laughing. He jumps onto T’Challa quickly and hugs him tightly, moving T’Challa to let a few happy tears out.  

This is Erik’s best birthday ever.


	13. T'Cheeks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik teases T'Challa about the booty he loves so much.

T’Challa’s favorite sleeping position was involuntary, to say the least. Before, him lying on his side with Erik’s arms around him would bring a smile to his face. Especially when Erik would whisper how much he loved his husband and why into his ear until T’Challa fell asleep like a romantic bedtime story. But recently Erik was fixated on T’Challa’s ass for some reason. He’d usually slap it or squeeze it to make his Wakandan hubby giggle or smile but this was different – he had more of a teasing nature to him. Now when T’Challa slept it was on top of Erik, nuzzling his face against the thick-bearded man’s bare chest and Erik’s hand would creep slowly up his thigh until it reached the ‘T’Challa Zone’. Apparently, there was something romantic about Erik calling himself an aircraft and T’Challa’s rear being the landing zone.

But this morning was different because Erik decided to be less romantic and more annoying. In fact, his behavior reminded T’Challa of his ex-boyfriend, Wade. They both shared the humor of biting T’Challa’s ass while he was spread out asleep on the bed to wake him up without even knowing each other. If Erik and Wade ever met each other T’Challa would fly back to Wakanda and never open the gates to anybody but his family. Erik spotted T’Challa while he was doing his morning yoga routine and could not hide his appreciation of T’Challa in yoga pants, touching the ground with his hands while perching his glutes in the air.

“Good morning, babe. You take card?”

T’Challa was confused until he felt the ends of Erik’s fingers run through the crease in his pants and he would have dropped if Erik hadn’t caught him with one arm. Frustration crossed his mind but when Erik pulled him up and turned him for eye contact it all disappeared. Erik’s arm remained around his waist and he moved the second one around to try and squeeze the cheeks underneath but T’Challa broke off with a competitive expression and backed away.

“Erik, if you had to choose between my ass and the rest of me, what would you pick?” He asked with a grin. He knew Erik would have a smart remark to say but it was the returning grin that irked him. One foot stepped forward slowly and soon another step was taken. Erik looked up and down and actually scanned him.

“Come on baby, even if you’re playing that’s hurtful,” Erik said softly.

T’Challa felt like he may have crossed a line with the question and returned to Erik’s arms to hug him. As his hands moved to the back of Erik’s back he enjoyed the scent that came with his husband and smiled.

“I’m sorry Erik, I didn’t mean to insinuate that.”

Erik’s hands coursed down to T’Challa’s waist and he nodded silently.

“Though…you got more ass than a donkey farm.”

T’Challa lightly slapped his chest and tried to move away from him but Erik kept one arm around his waist so he didn’t feel trapped but couldn’t walk away.

“Bast you can never be serious!” T’Challa rolled his eyes and Erik attempted to stop him.

“Baby-baby-baby-baby wait!” Erik urged and T’Challa ignored him so there was only one thing to do. He picked T’Challa up with no struggle and held him in a fireman’s position. T’Challa shook and tried to escape but Erik simply carried him to their bedroom. It would have helped if T’Challa remained serious but he couldn’t help but laugh at the excitement of being held in the air. The only tinge of anger in his tone was towards himself for being a giggling mess.

“Erik put me down! I’m going to drop!” T’Challa laughed.

Erik paid no attention and carried on walking until they reached the bedroom. When he sat he kept T’Challa in his hold but now he could mess around without T’Challa getting hurt.

“You see this?” He asked, pushing one finger against T’Challa’s butt which proved more effective than just pointing. “This is too good to not appreciate. But I can see why you’re mad, so I’m sorry for making you feel bad.”

T’Challa eased up once he heard that. He loved Erik too much to be mad and when Erik recognized that he’d stopped moving, he slowly pulled T’Challa down onto his lap. Looking up into Erik’s warm eyes, T’Challa smiled enough to show the beautiful gap between his teeth and let Erik hold him. Moments like this could never let T’Challa keep a straight face.

“I love you, T’Challa. Yeah, you may be T’Thick As Hell, and I do wanna smack those T’Cheeks, but I love you. All of you, from your gorgeous smile to your addictive personality.”

T’Challa moved up and kissed Erik on his lips with a slow pace and once he reunited his eyes with Erik’s they both smiled.

“I love all of you too Erik. Even those cheesy names you clearly had on your mind for so long…”

Erik gave a fake gasp and frowned.

“Cheesy? How dare you,” Erik said with faux offense. Even he had to admit to himself that he’d been saving those names for a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way, prompts are open for this.


	14. Everything About You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik isn't used to being called cute. But he doesn't hate it either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested from Tumblr. Open for prompts :)

Late in the evening, T’Challa was already tired from a long day of meeting with the other representatives of different countries. When he got home it felt delightful to lock his door but it felt even better to see Erik’s coat on the floor. His smile couldn’t be held as he crouched to pick it up and threw it on the coat hanger along with the others. His suit ached his body so he removed his blazer and folded it over his forearm as he walked straight to the bedroom, where he found the love of his life sitting peacefully on the bed with his eyes wrapped on a book. It was an asset that Erik loved reading but it was even more rewarding that he wore his glasses when he read – T'Challa loved seeing Erik in his glasses.

“Hey, how was the meeting?” Erik asked gently. Usually, he would smother T’Challa with kisses and appreciation of his return but when it came to reading not much stole his attention. T’Challa chuckled to himself and continued to approach Erik while slowly opening his tie. Once he pulled it over his head there was no more care for it and the king threw it to one side in a familiar fashion to how his boyfriend had left his coat. Erik never broke focus from the book but T’Challa unbuttoned a shirt and exposed a hint of his dark, bare chest that Erik would enjoy resting his face on in hopes that it would make a change.

“Ah…they acted like Wakanda owed the world an apology. I guess they are right, we could have helped so many people-”

Before he could get worked up Erik interrupted him.

“You know they mean their people, right? They don’t care about the slaves or victims of racial injustice. They’re talking about the white dudes who could have had an easier life.”

T’Challa felt better hearing that and gave Erik a kiss on his cheek to show his gratitude for having such a supportive boyfriend. After a few minutes, T’Challa found himself gazing at his man with a smile on his face because of how adorable he looked. When he was interested in a page, he would pierce the tip of his tongue through his pearly white teeth and give a glimpse of his dimples with his expression. When he was focused his eyebrow would erect slightly but it was enough to drive T’Challa crazy. With no words being said and the only sound being the pages turning Erik did not even need to look up to know.

“ _What?_ ”

T’Challa would have responded with a confused expression if he didn’t already know he was being obvious. So instead he just grinned with guilt and observed the man next to him.

“You look cute with your glasses on. Especially when you read,” he said and Erik failed at hiding his smile. He’d been called handsome, attractive, sexy and most other words when it came to his appearance but never had he been called cute. 

“ _Cute?_  Me?”  

His surprise was enough to break him from his book and once he looked at T’Challa he was welcomed by the shiny, big brown eyes staring at him like he was treasure. He closed his book and held it with one hand, wedging his thumb in-between to keep his page. T’Challa rested his head on Erik’s chest and hummed happily.

“Yes, you…” T’Challa chuckled. “Put the book down and I’ll show you how cute I find you.

Erik snorted and wrapped an arm around T’Challa’s shoulder, even if T’Challa wanted all of his attention rather than sharing it with the book.

“I ain’t cute…and it’s getting good. I promise when I finish this chapter you can tell me all about how ‘cute’ I am.”

T’Challa held back a whine and pouted instead, looking at Erik as if he had just told him Santa was not real. He loved the sight of his boyfriend too much to wait and he moved his lips onto Erik’s collarbone. Erik tried to ignore it but T’Challa made sure his attempts were difficult.

“But you make such adorable faces when you read…like when you bite your lip…” T’Challa explained, elevating his lips on Erik’s warm skin. “You smell so good too, I could feast on the scent of you alone for eternity.”

Erik bit his tongue to hide his smile but it was impossible and he turned his face away as his eyes narrowed in a humored response.  

“ _Stop_ ,” Erik insisted. The way his boyfriend talked about him made him want to grin hard but he also really wanted to read his book. Nobody ever talked about Erik the way T’Challa did, and it helped him feel better about himself.

Of course, T’Challa ignored him and smoothly moved his body with his lips glued onto Erik’s neck so he straddled him now. He could feel Erik getting hard underneath him and even the delicate breaths he took made Erik want to give in. If there was one thing he knew about his boyfriend, it was that Erik secretly loved compliments. He had a secret thing for praise, likely due to him not receiving enough of it before he met T’Challa, and it was his weakness.

“Do you really want me to stop?” T’Challa smiled, cupping Erik’s chin and moving his eyes away from the book in his hand. “You can save the book for another day, you’re a good reader. I bet you get through them quickly…I can last much longer…”

Erik bit his lip and chuckled, nodding with approval.  

“Damn…sounds like a challenge,” Erik said and his hand dropped the book. “You know what you do to me when you say that shit…”

His hands rode down from T’Challa’s back down to his ass, and he could not deny that the tight suit pants were a blessing.  

“I do,” T’Challa laughed, kissing the side of Erik’s face. “Now show me what you can do to me.”

 

***

 

The next week Erik was watching a movie on his own and laughed loudly throughout the entire thing. It was a Christmas movie about one cool father and one…not so cool father but Erik found himself laughing at the cool father’s dad even more. T’Challa was icing the Christmas tree cookies he had made on his own but couldn’t concentrate as Erik laughed. When he had met Erik, he was not open about his emotions. He could tell that when they started going out, Erik hadn’t felt that happy in a long time.

T’Challa untied the apron and slung it on the counter with a smile on his face. Now that the cookies were finished, he could let them cool down and spend time with his boyfriend. Erik heard him walking into the room and lowered his laughing to a chuckle so he could greet T’Challa.

“Hey babe, come sit down. This movie is so funny!”

He opened an arm and welcomed T’Challa who was more than happy to rest under his arm. He buried his head into Erik’s chest and began to watch the rest of the movie with him. They both laughed at the funny moments, and Erik’s giggles made T’Challa smile because they sounded so sweet. When Erik stopped T’Challa moved position and laid his head on Erik’s lap so he could look up at him. He observed the reactions and the image was even better than the sound. His eyes narrowed as he laughed, with all of his teeth displayed. Even the dying-down giggles had his chest bouncing lightly and the sighs made T’Challa melt.  

“You have an adorable laugh,” T’Challa smiled. Erik looked down at T’Challa and scrunched his nose as he returned a smile.  

“Huh? Do I?” Erik asked as if he didn’t appreciate the comment. T’Challa nodded and Erik put a palm over T’Challa’s face. “Stop playing…”

T’Challa believed it was because Erik thought he was joking but in reality, Erik didn’t want to show how much he liked the praise. T’Challa knew how to make him feel good about himself. T’Challa licked his hand in an effort to get him to move his hand and it worked.

“You do. Your nose scrunches up when you laugh.”

Erik looked at him and moved his hands over to T’Challa’s head so he could run his fingers through T’Challa’s curls.

“What do you want? Is it sex again, like last week? He asked with a wild smile and raised eyebrows. T’Challa shook his head and gazed into his eyes.

“I just love everything about you.”

Erik found himself speechless and T’Challa smiled.

“I see you’re wearing the Christmas sweater I bought, it really shows off your shoulders. I-”

Erik cut him off with a kiss and they both smiled when they broke from the kiss.

“You’re too good to me, T’Challa.”

“No, Erik. The world wasn’t good enough to you. But now that’s my job.”


	15. Inappropriate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik misjudges T'Challa's intentions, and he tries to comfort him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was in my drafts for the longest, and it's my birthday so I thought I'd update this. It's mostly one-sided but take it as you will.

One year. One entire year. Sure, most people gave Erik a minute or two if they wanted a conversation, but T’Challa gave him a  _year_. Of course, T’Challa had long to forgive Erik for threatening his sister but the rest of his actions were understood – not pardoned, understood. The first three months were the hardest for both men; T’Challa was working with a man who attempted to kill him twice as well as his family (he could not even begin to think of the disrespect shown to the tribe and its people) and Erik was faced with a man who took everything from him. Okay, his father did that. But T’Challa stuck the dagger in his chest and with everybody presuming he was dead, T’Challa took the throne back from him.  

_“He wasn’t enough, was he? My mother wasn’t either, ‘cos your daddy stopped mine from saving my mother! No…T’Challa has to have everything while Erik has nothing!” Erik yelled. The conversation had begun with T’Challa claiming he was still the rightful king, even after his initial loss to the former black-ops soldier. It burned Erik in his chest hearing those words and his cheeks became even hotter. “I know y’all still have fucking rules! Zuri intervened with the ass-beating I gave you so you were disqualified from the bout. I’ve always been the goddamn king and I always will be!”_

Once it reached halfway through the year, Erik had become a lot less hostile. So much so that T’Challa deemed it safe enough for Erik’s handcuffs to be removed. Erik still held onto that feeling of gratitude once his hands were free to sway in completely different directions. In fact, he even let a small smile escape which was quick to evaporate but T’Challa saw it and returned the smile. They both knew that Erik would be in the isolated holding center for a while so the sooner they could build trust together the easier Erik’s life would be. The king hated the thought of putting Erik under forced restraint, especially with the handcuffs. But now they were a necessity no more.

_“You’ve earned it, N’Jadaka.”_

_“Why don’t you call me Erik? Or Killmonger?” Erik asked curiously. It did not offend him, or anger him, it simply birthed a new sense of curiosity. And T’Challa relished Erik’s curiosity far more than the vengeance he had brought to Wakanda._

_“As much as you may hate to admit it, you are one of us. I do not care what the circumstances are between you and I, or you and Wakanda. You are Wakandan and this is your home.”_

_Erik smiled again as T’Challa threw the handcuffs on the floor. He had lived a life of bloodlust and hatred only for this man to attempt to render all of that as something of the past. On the one hand, Erik craved to escape the feeling of delivering justice to his family, but on the other hand, he was scared of forgetting who he was and suffering just like his father had._

It had been an entire year since Erik found himself in complete isolation. But he was not the man who yelled at the glass, threw his food on the walls and even cried in anger at his cousin for picking this over death. T’Challa knocked on the glass and watched Erik’s head shoot up from the book he was reading. For Erik, it felt so good to be reunited with literature and even his glasses. The only thing better than reading to himself was the visits from T’Challa.

The door slid open and as T’Challa walked in Erik put his book to the side and sat forward.

“Hey cuz, wassup?”

They both gave each other a Wakandan salute which Erik insisted ended with a pulled-in hug. At first, he claimed it was for a unique touch to their greetings but soon after he admitted to himself it was because he was severely touch-starved. He hadn’t received a hug since giving a half-hearted one to Linda – he still wasn’t sure to this day if it was love he felt for her or lust to be loved. But he was more than aware of the fact she felt more for him than he did for her.

Erik sat first and his cousin sat by his side.

“I just wanted to ask you something. It’s been a year since you came here and I feel like it’s the right time to ask.”

The expression his face wore made Erik nervous. He felt like he was doing good, or maybe it wasn’t that. Maybe T’Challa was going to tell him that he’d done so well with his progress that it was time for him to live his life outside of Wakanda. He couldn’t return to Oakland and go back to having nothing.

“You’re not kicking me out, are you?”

T’Challa furrowed an eyebrow almost immediately and opened his mouth. It was almost as if he found offense in the question.

“Of course not, N’Jadaka. You have given me no such reason to do so. But it is about this isolation holding center. I think you’re a much different man than the one I met, and if you’ll accept the invite, I would be more than happy for you to live in the palace.”

His smile warmed Erik’s heart and hearing those words struck him with surprise. It was finally his chance to have a family if they would have him. T’Challa promised that his crimes were not forgotten but were understood.  

“I-uh-thank you. That means a lot to me, honestly.”

T’Challa gave a smirk and nodded his head. The way his eyes relaxed into Erik’s forced a smile from the younger man.  

“I’ll take that as a yes?”

He put a hand on Erik’s shoulder and smiled, still glaring into his gentle brown eyes and Erik felt his cheeks burn. Suddenly his heart began to jump out of his ribcage and his impulse to do something strengthened. T’Challa moved their heads closer and Erik was almost petrified of not being able to contain himself. This confusion in his mind burned and he had no idea what he was feeling.

“Just know, it may take some time for everyone to move on and forgive your actions. But I already have, so it is a start. Wakanda has failed you, but I-”

T’Challa was cut off with his lips being pressed on by the man sitting next to him’s and his eyes widened instantly. His mouth fell open and Erik backed away from him before jumping off the bed and walking away.

“Oh fuck-fuck, I’m-I’m sorry T. Fuck, I fucked up,” Erik panted as he paced back and forth. He couldn’t look his cousin in the eye after what he had just done. Suddenly, his chest began to tighten and he clutched at it, hyperventilating until he slowly fell on one knee. He couldn’t breathe. “S-Shit, I don’t know-I don’t know why I did that…”

Erik’s panic attack unfroze T’Challa and to the younger man’s surprise he quickly knelt down. Using the same gesture of putting his hand on Erik’s shoulder he tried to calm the man down but all he could think about was T’Challa outcasting him, telling everybody about it, even the judgment he must have been feeling towards Erik.

“D-Don’t touch me!” Erik yelled and he pushed his hand away but T’Challa refused to give up. He swept Erik’s leg with his hand and they both sat flat on the ground with no choice but to commit body contact. T’Challa held a firm grip on the back of Erik’s neck and pushed their foreheads together while he struggled to breathe.

“Just breathe…slowly…it’s okay, I’m here.”

“T’Challa, I-I’m so-”

“-N’Jadaka, I need you to breathe and look at me-”

“-I  _can’t_ -”

“-Please.”

The last ‘please’ did calm Erik down and he forgot about everything. They breathed in sync and T’Challa noticed Erik’s eyes were darting around less. When he felt safe to do so, he took Erik’s hand and stood up first, pulling the man up without applying too much force. Now they were stood face to face, with Erik’s last breaths calming until he felt comfortable. His eyes were watery but he wasn’t crying just yet.

T’Challa had no answer for how he felt about the situation but he was more than confused. A part of him wanted to shout at Erik and ask what he was doing when it happened but now it was different. He didn’t feel as much outrage as he thought he should have but instead felt compassion. Erik must have been terrified and he could see it had affected him direly.  

After a minute of cold silence, Erik tried to thaw it out by speaking, even if it was about the incident.

“T, I’m sorry about-”

“You do not need to explain yourself-”

“-But I want to. I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me. I haven’t talked to anybody apart from you for a year, and you’ve been so good to me. Shit, T’Challa, you make me feel welcome like I belong. Nobody makes me feel good about myself the way you do.”

T’Challa appreciated what he heard and gave him a smile.

“I promise, this will not change your position in the palace. But maybe…maybe something else can change.”

The way his thumb rubbed on the side of Erik’s head, just under his ear made Erik smile even if he was confused. He didn’t want to believe that T’Challa was returning the attraction but the smile T’Challa gave him as he did so gave him a glimmer of hope. It certainly made him feel better about it.


	16. Christmas Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik wants to know what presents he's gotten, and T'Challa tries to host a Christmas party with a drunk Erik on the loose.

“Come on...” Erik pleaded. This time of the year was most entertaining for T’Challa because of Erik’s endearment for the season combined with his own appreciation of the time. They both grew excited as the months got closer to December and now it was less than three days away from Christmas Day. 

Initially, T’Challa did not celebrate the day because of his own religion but once Erik opened up to him about remembering the handful of Christmas memories he had as a child, T’Challa could not deny him a reunion with the excitement. Plus, they lived in View Park−Windsor Hills, so T’Challa did not mind celebrating with his neighbors who were just as into the Christmas thing as they were.

“Erik, you are supposed to wait until the day to open these presents,” T’Challa chuckled, cupping his husband’s chin in one hand and gently kissing his warm cheek. This time it was going to be different from the prior year as they weren’t the only ones celebrating in the Udaku-Stevens household. T’Challa invited friends and family from Wakanda such as M’Baku, Okoye and W’Kabi, and his sister Shuri. Erik invited his neighbors Sam and James, Hernan and Darius, Steve Rogers and...Wade Wilson.

That last name always narrowed his eyes. The neighbor did not even attempt to disguise his lust for Erik’s husband which made the Californian see red a majority of the time they were forced to talk.

But Erik’s mood was much more different now that he was in the living room alone with T’Challa. Once he received the soft kiss from T’Challa he pouted and slumped back into the cream couch with his arms crossed. 

“Can I at least guess?” 

T’Challa's cheeks raised with a smile as he moved the glasses onto the dining table next to the bottles and shrugged his shoulders.

“Go for it. I will neither confirm nor deny whether or not you are correct.”

Erik grinned and immediately looked around for the gift that stood out the most – those would be the long but thin-in-a-sense objects leaning against the edge of the fireplace.

“Hmm...did you finally take my advice of katanas?” Erik queried and T’Challa tried his hardest not to support the idea by laughing at it. Erik insisted that if they were to be robbed, a gun would only motivate their attackers into preparing for the next time, but nobody could prepare for a katana. But once he noticed what presents Erik was talking about, he knew what the incoming response would be.

“Those are not for you, those are for Wade.”

Erik jumped from the couch and raised an eyebrow almost immediately.

“You got Wade katanas and not me?!”

T’Challa tried to shush Erik and approached him quickly, both to calm him down and avoid his neighbor from hearing that he got him a present.

“Shh...look, Wade gets lonely at this time of the year, I feel bad watching him see all of us having fun and knowing he feels left out.”

“Steve’s single-”

“-and he hates the language Wade uses. Wade just has a...a unique personality that others don’t understand. It’s not fair for him to be alone so I thought I’d get him a present. They’re not even katanas, they are ski poles.”

Erik eased up and relaxed his eyes as he formed a smile on his face and tied his arms around the darker man’s waist from behind.

“I have the world’s most thoughtful husband...here I thought you were leaving me.”

T’Challa arched his head to let Erik kiss the side of his neck and a laugh bubbled from his throat.

“Who says the gifts wrapped up aren’t your belongings packed up?”

Despite his shrieks, T’Challa knew that comment was more than a justification for Erik picking him up and carrying him around the house.

“How are you gonna leave if I just keep you like this? I can carry you like Santa carries his gift bag,” Erik teased and the doorbell rang.

“Erik! Put me down, we have guests!” T’Challa laughed and Erik walked to the door with a grip on his husband. When he opened the door he was happy to see their neighbors Sam and James Wilson standing with a bottle of wine. James’ eyes widened with a humored smile following and Sam chuckled at how adorable the couple was acting. 

Erik put the thrashing man down by sliding him in front and turning him around to face their guests. T’Challa caught his breath and smiled with minor embarrassment before shaking the other married couple’s hands.

“Hello guys, ignore my husband and please come in. Thank you for coming.”

 

***

 

Now the entire room was filled with guests and Erik – being Erik – decided it would be a good idea to drink more than the guests visiting as if the wine was free for him. Well, T'Challa had bought it himself. He even shared some of Wade’s vodka with him. T’Challa was in the middle of a conversation with Darius and his boyfriend about a pair of stolen sunglasses when Erik stumbled over and grabbed T’Challa’s rear excitedly. He yelped and turned to Erik with a humored but also mortified expression.

“Baby-baby-baby, I’m sorry, it’s just so fat!” 

Erik knew he was embarrassing T’Challa but he couldn’t help what he said. Hernan looked at Darius and laughed with T’Challa who was laughing nervously and they all took another sip from their glasses. 

“Don’t worry about it, Darius never stops telling me how much he loves me when he’s drunk. Plus, he has a craving for hot-dogs you would not imagine.”

Darius buried his head behind Hernan’s shoulder with a guilty giggle and nudged Hernan, silently pleading him to stop even if he didn’t have a problem with what was being said. The next song on Erik’s playlist was _Let It Snow_ by  _Boyz II Men_ and he immediately jumped with joy at the song playing.

“Oh shit! Nah, baby we gotta dance to this!” Erik exclaimed and pulled a reluctant T’Challa into the middle of the room to hold his waist and sway gently side-to-side. Soon the older man began to enjoy himself and danced with Erik in front of their guests, who felt influenced by their actions to do the same. Darius and Hernan danced together, followed by James and Sam, Okoye and W’Kabi and M’Baku danced to himself discreetly until a smaller but tall nonetheless man stood next to him.

“Hey buddy, you wanna dance?” Wade asked. 

“And why would I dance with you?” M’Baku frowned. He found the man to be attractive but still a stranger.

“Why wouldn’t you? C’mon, have some fun...”

M’Baku shrugged his shoulders and put his drink to the side, dancing with the light brown-haired man and everybody was enjoying themselves. Even the solo guests such as Steve and Shuri had fun dancing to themselves. Erik laid his lips on T’Challa’s neck and both men smiled as the song progressed.

Once the mood settled Erik grew interested and whispered into T’Challa’s ear, his hushed words were warm on T'Challa's earlobe.

“Hey, you tryna go outside?” 

“What for?”

“I just want you all to myself,” Erik chuckled and T’Challa could barely protest as Erik led them the door. When he opened it, they were both shocked to see it was raining but Erik walked out. “Shit, it never snows here, might as well pretend it’s snowing now...”

T’Challa found a new sense of thrill and couldn’t say no to the idea. He removed his blazer and giggled the second they were both outside.

“Erik, this is...this is crazy. I love it,” he grinned and they kissed stood on the grass with wide smiles. Erik was a few drinks away from falling over but all he could feel was the love for his husband and the desire he had for those gentle lips of T’Challa’s. His Christmas sweatshirt was instantly soaked and he didn’t care, all his focus went on pleasing his man.

T’Challa was definitely not sober but Erik was much drunker and when he tried to pick T’Challa up it went horribly wrong. The couple toppled over and now T’Challa found himself straddling Erik, whose back was flat on the grass, and they began to laugh excitedly.

Erik’s hands traveled from his back to his ass and moaned with joy at the feeling.

“Fuck, it feels like I’m holding two of those round ornaments we have on the tree...”

T’Challa snorted and shifted down to cuddle with his husband on the grass. He turned on his side and they gazed into each other’s eyes. Erik wrapped his arm around the back of T’Challa’s neck to act as a neck pillow and the latter buried his face in the lighter skinned man’s wet chest.

“Hey, T. You’ve given me so much in my life, like anything I ever missed out on you’ve given me. Happiness, Christmas, someone to love. Let me give you something.”

He reached into his pocket and T’Challa giggled at the thought of it being a condom.

“Is it _dick?_ ” 

His giggling vibrated against Erik’s chest and Erik pulled out his late father’s golden watch from his pocket. When T’Challa looked up he was shocked to see it and widened his eyes.

“Erik, that’s your father’s, I-”

Erik shut him off with a long, passionate kiss and he smiled into T’Challa’s eyes.

“He gave me life, and you’ve given me a life worth living. Please.”

T’Challa put the watch on and felt his eyes garner dampness as he grinned.

“Thank you, Erik. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, baby. Merry Christmas T.”

“Merry Christmas.”

They both laughed with happy tears escaping their eyes and remained there for another ten minutes, watching the rain pour down on the house in front of them. Erik didn’t even care about his presents anymore because the best gift was in his arms, and he could not wait until everyone left so he could unwrap it.


End file.
